“It c-c-comes to a dollar and six cents,” says Mark.
“Then gimme somethin’ for four cents to make up the other ten,” says she. “And gimme them votes so’s I can cast ’em for Peter Bloom.”
Mrs. Peterson came in right after, and she spent a dollar and thirty cents, casting her votes for Jason Peterson.
Mark looked at me and his eyes twinkled.
“What d’you think of the s-s-scheme now?” he asked in a whisper.
“It begins to look,” says I, “like there might be somethin’ to it.”
It began to look like it still more as the day went on. Chet Weevil met me as I was coming back from dinner.
“Plunk,” says he, “kin you keep a secret?”
“Like throwin’ it down a well,” says I.
“What d’you think of Chancy’s chances?” says he.